


Your Best Friend from Down Under

by FaerieMayden



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Abandonment Issues, Alternate Universe- Underguardians, Anxiety Attacks, Bipolar Disorder, Bullying, Depression, F/M, Gen, Illustrations, Ink is actually secretly an asshole, Inspired by Real Events, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Multi, Non-binary Reader - Freeform, Other, Physical Abuse, Plot Twists, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Reader Is Not Frisk, Reader-Insert, SO MUCH FLUFF, Self Confidence Issues, Underguardians, Underguardians AU, Verbal Abuse, at least for the first bit, but also fluff, dfab, low-key self-insert tbh, whoops
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-08-19 20:03:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 16,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8223134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaerieMayden/pseuds/FaerieMayden
Summary: Every Human gets a friend at birth. Monsters, only able to surface from the Underground when assigned to one. From the day they are born, until they are lowered into their graves, Monsters watch, protect, and sometimes love. But they can never be seen by other Humans, or else...bad things happen. So Humans keep hush-hush about their companions. Sometimes, they never even meet the Monster under their bed.But nothing ever stays orderly for long.Follow the Reader as they grow up with their Monster Under The Bed, through thick and thin, and watch as plot unravels.Rating WILL go up as story progresses and plot goes from fluffy to dark. Be warned!





	1. All Day, Staring at the Ceiling

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Monsters Under the Bed](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7809409) by [Silcatian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silcatian/pseuds/Silcatian). 



> So I've got a vague idea of where I want to take this, but dedication is a difficult thing. This is also a side-project and has less priority than Corrupt Me. So if you're looking for more consistency, go ahead over there. This is just something I'll update whenever I feel like it, I think.
> 
> It's to my hope that this will be a slow burn, since you _will_ be following the Reader as they age. Nothing will happen immediately, and it may be a bit slow at first. But hopefully overwhelming amounts of fluff will help with that.
> 
> Enjoy!

When you first meet him, it's by complete accident.

You were six years old. A lonely six years old. Playing in your room, on the later side of the evening. You were supposed to go to bed some time ago, but you had been making a palace out of all the books you had--at this age, you thought they served a better purpose as castle defense than as reading material. You also took it upon yourself to destroy these book forts afterwards (though, of course, you didn't dare ruin the actual books, or else you'd really be in for it).

"Go for it, Hunny Bunny!" You cheered, and holding your treasured purple bunny toy--it was older than you--you crawl forward on your hands and knees, barreling the fragile toy right into the books, knocking them over and then cheering as you hear the heavier ones thump on the carpeted floor.

Your mom eventually came in, telling you that you needed to clean up. As fun as book forts were, the worst part of them was having to do the clean-up afterwards. You procrastinated for a bit before actually doing it. Whatever books didn't fit on the shelf, you would stuff under the bed. So you were in the middle of stuffing a couple books under your bed when you felt resistance. That was weird! Nothing was usually under your bed. You peeked under, and bristled when you realized that you couldn't see the wall on the other side of the bed. There was a black mass in the way. Eyes wide, you poke it again with the book, and this time the figure shuffles and turns around, and you're met by a white skull with a single yellow pupil in the left socket. A full-body shiver runs through you, and your flight instinct kicks in, causing you to jerk back. Before you could scream, a hand shot out and covered your mouth, the once-mass actually taking on a more humanoid shape as it crawled out from under the bed, hand still on your face. Tears sprung to your eyes, blue-gray eyes full of terror that didn't match your pudgy face.

[](http://tinypic.com?ref=2wptrav)

"Shh, _, you're fine," the Monster spoke, and something about his (it sounded male) voice...it sounded familiar, and soothing. Gravelly and deep, but not unpleasant. You felt yourself relaxing already, despite how terrifying the other looked. He was a...skeleton? You remembered reading about them in one of the Halloween books you had. Actually, Halloween was soon for you; it would be time to pull out the decorations, soon. Your family wasn't as spirited as some other homes, but you did like playing with the rubber bat decorations...you wished they didn't have to go away once Halloween was over.

Focus, _! Focus! There's a _real live Monster_ or something sitting right in front of you! It's then that you become conscious of the bone-y texture of the hand over your mouth, and despite the hardness, the touch is surprisingly warm. You weren't dead yet, but you were still buzzing with nervous energy even as you swallow the scream that threatened to escape. The Monster in front of you seems to relax a bit, too, hand tentatively backing away from your mouth. He shifted his position from the uncomfortable-looking legs folded position, instead sitting criss-cross apple sauce (you learned that in school!) in front of you, hands in his lap, looking somewhat at a loss for words. You took notice of the holes in his hands, and looked at your own. Notably lacking holes. But on the other hand, _he_ was lacking flesh. Something that was incomprehensible for your poor little brain.

"'M G," the skeleton-man finally said, breaking the silence and causing you to jerk to look at him. G looked...sheepish? At least, he was reaching behind him, scratching at his neck bones and single pupil averted, facing more towards the window. "I didn't plan on introducing myself for a few more years, but, I guess it's kinda too late now, huh?" His grin widened somewhat, causing you to shrink back. G's smile quickly faded, and there was a sunken appearance about his eyes. He looked...tired. Somehow. "I'm your Monster under your bed. And I know that movie Nomsters Inc., or whatever, tells ya that Monsters are supposed to scare ya, but nah. I'll protect you, okay? I'm here to be your best friend, no matter what." It seemed too good to be true; sketchy. Your parents had warned you about stranger danger--but you were the strange kid at your school, and only had one friend. "But you can't tell anyone about me, okay?" Not wanting to lose this opportunity, you nodded, eyes wide. G's smile returned, but not so menacing looking. "Good. I think we're gonna be great pals, _. Nice to officially meet you." He held out his hand to shake, and, thinking to what you had learned about manners, you smile and reach out, placing your small hand into his larger one to shake. It was strange, but no longer unwelcome.

Soon enough, you're chatting away with G, showing him all of your favorite toys. If you weren't so little, you might have thought about how if G had been here the whole time, he already knew about all your things. But he listened to you all the same, hiding only when he heard your parents coming in to say goodnight, little sister curled up in your dad's arms asleep as they kissed you on the cheek or lips. After they leave, you say goodnight to G, whom comes out to actually...sit there with you. It was a twin, so the space was a bit cramped, but you found yourself curling into his side. Somehow, G was not the sharp angles and chilliness that you would expect from something that symbolized death--rather, he was oddly squishy and warm. You asked him, sleepily, if he wanted to borrow one of your shirts, since all he had was a coat. But all he did was laugh a hearty, rumbling laugh that came from deep within his...non-existent stomach, and gently pat you on the head. He continued to do this until you dozed off, brushing aside your bangs to press a gentle skelekiss to your forehead before sliding out of the bed, and back under it, where he had been for the past six years.

He hadn't planned to meet you for another two or three years, but this could have gone a lot worse than it had. G wasn't supposed to reveal himself until the time seemed right, but maybe this way was for the best. He had been pretty eager to finally introduce himself--maybe that eagerness had developed into a subconscious want to finally meet you. Either way, he had done one of his simpler jobs wrong, but so long as you didn't freak out, he supposed it was okay. He found that he didn't regret having not teleported away when you'd reached under the bed.


	2. I Walk a Lonely Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're moving. Exciting, right?
> 
> Heh, maybe the idea of it is. But in reality? You're terrified.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in one night!! What is this??  
> Hhhh. I kept on nit-picking the first chapter. I don't really like it very much. So I'll bury it in other chapters to make myself feel better.

You're moving.

You're eight years old. It's the day before the last day of school. You'd lost contact with your friend from when you were six, but got one more new one. Now, you were going to be back at square one, because you didn't have a phone like all of the adults and couldn't keep contact with your best friend. It tore you apart.

G held you the night before you were to leave for the airport as you cried and cried. Your emotional state hadn't ever really been the best--he learned very quick from the time you turned three that there was something not quite right with you, and it grew more notable with age. And so you cried, loudly, and though he hated to see you sad, the bonding time was nice. Since you shared a room with your sister now, he rarely got to come out. But he was also upset--your parents weren't the one comforting you; they were just trying to block out your sobs as you wept your agony into his sleeve. G clutched you closer, gently massaging your back. He knew that you cried for abnormal lengths of time when you got emotional, and often wept loudly to try and get attention that would never come, but he also knew that that was because, even if you wouldn't admit it, you _wanted_ your parents to notice you, rather than tell you to quiet down. But it never worked.

"G...you're...you're coming with us, right?" You asked, eyes wide and blurry with tears. He reached up a hand from around your shoulder, wiping the tears from your eyes and smiling when your vision cleared. "Of course, my dear. I will follow you no matter where you go." You looked so happy in that moment, it was jarring after all that sadness. G felt his normally cold and detached heart melt--you always had that effect on him. Yeah, you could be a brat sometimes, but he knew that you couldn't help it, and that you also did your best to act nothing short of courteous in front of him. He appreciated the effort.

"But...how will you? If nobody can see you?" You asked, voice still cracking and watery from your recent melt-down. G had shown you his magic, but never the more potentially frightening stuff. He lifted you in the air a couple of times when you'd gone through your Peter Pan phase, or summoned a small bone to use as a sword when you tried to act like Link (which actually hadn't gone well; it ended up with several holes in the wall, which got you in a lot of trouble), but hadn't shown the darker side of his powers, or teleported around you. But he supposed that now was a better time than any, because if he didn't show you now, your anxiety of having to start completely over might boil over into another meltdown. And as warm as you were tucked into his side, he hated to see you upset.

"I have my ways," he said, a mischievous glint in his eye. You cocked your head slightly to the side before he suddenly disappeared, causing you to flop into the bed with his sudden lack of presence, landing in your covers with a soft, surprised "oompf!" and he was on the other side of the room, trying and mostly failing to stifle a laugh. He couldn't afford to be too loud, or else he would risk being heard by your family. You blinked in awe and thinly veiled shock for a moment before a grin split your own face and you let out a giggle, scooting out of your bed and running over to tackle him. But just before you could, he disappeared again, appearing on the other side of the room. He does this a couple of times, before suddenly appearing behind you and scooping you into his arms, causing you to let out a shrieking laugh and thrash playfully in his arms, knowing that G was strong enough to hold you. Your mom often remarked on how you would one day be stronger than her, and how it scared her. You found that you didn't really mind.

"Okay, okay, it's time for you to get some sleep. You have a big day tomorrow, sweetheart." G said, adjusting his grip to where he was holding you bridal style, and easing you down into your covers. Your parents had stopped saying goodnight to you at least a year ago. Every now and again you would pad into their room to give them a goodnight kiss, but that was becoming less and less as time wore on. Your sister spent a lot of nights in there, now. It just meant more time with G. He turned off the light for you before crawling into the bed like he usually did. You knew that he never stayed the whole night, but the fact that someone was willing to stay with you at all was reassuring. Before you had met G, you would often sneak into your parents' room and crawl into their bed to fill that void in your heart. Something told you that if there wasn't a risk of being caught, G would stay with you the whole night. That thought, along with his usual petting your head, is what helped you nod off.

\--

Moving was the worst thing to ever happen to you.

It's been a couple of months. You're already being ostracized by your peers. You got into a really bad fight with several teachers and students at recess, and had to be carried by force out of the school. They were talking about expulsion and reform school. Both of those things didn't make any sense to you, but thinking of a talking letter in one of those Harry Potter movies you watched, you figured that the word 'expulsion' had to do something with 'expelled', and that didn't sound like a good word. You were the weird kid at your school, and now, you supposed you didn't even have a school anymore. G held you carefully this time around, knowing that you had some bruises, both self-inflicted from thrashing on the ground as well as from teachers trying to subdue you and students fight back or defend themselves. You don't even remember what had made you so angry; you think it might have been a kid saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, but whatever it had been, it had caused you to see red.

The recent memory caused you to shiver, curling more into G's side as he rocked you back and forth, reassuring you that everything would be fine.

\--

Reform school wasn't fun.

It wasn't completely awful, you supposed, but it wasn't fun. You think that what irked you the most was that each day on the board it said something along the lines of teaching students that bullying wasn't okay. Which made you mad, because you hadn't bullied anyone! You had been _bullied_ and you didn't know what sign that kid on the bus had made to you the other day, but from the look on his face you guessed it was probably something inappropriate. But being only nine years old, you didn't understand what it meant yet. Looking back, your nose would probably crinkle in disgust at the fact a kid not even in the double digits knew such a lewd thing, but for now, you are still nine years old.

You had a hard time doing what the teachers asked of you, for some reason. You don't know why. What they asked of you were simple things, and yet it took up so much energy to put up with it, and sometimes you just melted down. You had to accumulate a certain amount of points to get out of the class, and your behavior fluctuated a lot. So there were lots of mixed results.

You make it out of there at the tail end of the third grade.

\--

There's this boy in your new class at your new school. You were barely in the door when he scooted his chair back, getting up and running over to hastily introduce himself. The enthusiasm and mirth that surrounded him was staggering, and so very different from the recent anxiety that had plagued your life. But you smiled back and introduced yourself, doing the same to the rest of your classmates. And that night, you told G about your day, and other than mentioning how you had been initially nervous, you did not have a single negative thing to say.

\--

Time goes by. The boy that had introduced himself spent a lot of time with his own friend, and you struggled to include yourself. One time the boy's friend got really aggravated with something you said and chased you around the courtyard, something feral in his eyes that had scared the crap out of you. You nearly had an asthma attack by the time someone had finally cooled his jets, adrenaline having been the only fuel your body had been running on.

You'd never really been that athletic.

\--

You were ten years old when you went to Disneyland. Your dad had met some woman, and she was pregnant with a half-sister when you went. You had a great time walking in and out of shops, or getting on and off various rides. It was for your Birthday, and it was easily one of the happiest weeks of your life, considering the fact that not everything had been well lately. Mom and dad had been arguing more and more lately, even though they no longer lived together. While you were out of town, you had less opportunities to see G, because you were in the same room with three (four?) other people. If anything put a damper on your trip, it was that.

\--

Your sister was getting older. You were getting older. You would be eleven next year, and that meant that your sister was going to be eight. You both fought sometimes, but what little sisters didn't? Though your arguments were often silly, and ended with the younger crying wolf and faking tears to get you in trouble. That was definitely a rough patch in your life, but it was nothing in comparison to when your parents were separated.

Some woman had come into their lives awhile back, and at this age, you didn't know their relationship with each other. But you knew that the woman had ended up with your dad, and your dad moving out. That had been about two years ago, and now he was moving back to where you had been in the second grade. The same house that you had left behind, to raise a little baby that you weren't even trusted to so much as look at, as far away from your mother as possible. You and your sister both wept at this, not wanting to see him go.

By that point, it seemed that your already fragile world was finally falling apart. You and your sister still shared a room. G couldn't comfort you that night.

Sometimes you wished that he would just come out anyways. But the consequences of doing something like that scared you too much.

\--

It's two years after your dad moved out. You're twelve years old. You're in middle school, and also where you used to live. Visiting your dad. You don't know how he does it, but G does somehow manage to follow. Even though your bed is a sleeping bag on the floor, he still finds a place to hide. Even though you're in a basement, an open space, he comes out after everyone is asleep and curls up with you. Even though he risks getting caught. You're always caught between wanting to continue snuggling him, because it seemed like he was the only one that ever understood your growing depression, but at the same time you feared that your sister could wake up right next to you, roll over and open her eyes, and see G. So you never let him stick around long, as much as it pained you.

Your mom had come to the state with you, and for the first week and a half, it was okay. But a few days before you were supposed to go back, your mother and father got into vicious fight. There was a lot of shouting, and swearing, and it made you so nervous that your still-small body just couldn't handle it. In tears, you darted off to an empty room. The room had been yours, all those years ago, but now was just a blank white space. Two daddy long legs were on the wall on the other side of the room, but you were too far into your anxiety attack to care as you rocked in the corner, tears spilling uncontrollably down your face. The muffled sounds of your parents yelling upstairs resounds around you in the empty space, and you curl deeper into yourself.

Then there are arms around you, and you think at first that it's G. But then you slowly look up, and realize that it's your mother, looking somewhat disheveled. She smiles apologetically at you, brushing at your bangs and asking if you were alright. You don't respond, simply burying yourself back into your arms.

You had wished that it were G crouching in front of you, asking if you were alright. Not the reason for your pain in the first place.


	3. Yeah, You Bleed Just To Know You're Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being a pre-teen sucks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! I'm pumping these out fast! ;v;

You're still twelve years old, except this time things are a little bit different. It's Winter. You've been bouncing back and forth between homes you live in, lately; between your grandparents', and your mother's. Why? Because nobody wanted to deal with you.

It's a sort of unspoken thing, you think, but nobody wants you. So when you stress them out too much, they kick you out for a couple of weeks to go live up the street with the other part of the family.

Sometimes, you ran away.

One time, you ran away at eleven thirty at night. You didn't reappear until one thirty in the morning, at the opposite house from which you ran from. You hadn't been wearing a coat. Frost was in your hair. You had nearly succumbed to exhaustion three times as you trekked through the foggy neighborhoods, path only dimly illuminated by various street lights.

Nobody had even gone looking for you. Everyone was asleep.

You didn't really love these people anymore, but a part of you deep down had been wishing that they at least went looking for you. Something inside of you broke that day.

Soon, it's gotten to a point where you've become a sort of hermit, holed up in your room. You made your way through each day like a zombie, spacing out through school. The bullying got worse, but whenever you told the principal, he would just say, "didn't see it, didn't happen," and that made your blood boil, but what could you do? You had stopped telling your family about the bullying that goes on the neighborhood, because they refused to believe you, wanting to protect their precious reputation with the neighbors. So what would make them fight for their kid at school? So you put up with the mean words, the cruel jokes, and the food being thrown in your hair, because that was all you _could_ do.

When you got home from Hell, you always made a beeline for your room. Only a husk of a person making a brief appearance, like a ghost, in your grandmother's hallway before disappearing into your room, lights out and computer light illuminating your face. You lived on the internet--would forget to eat if your grandmother didn't bring food to you every few hours. Sometimes you felt like she was the only person that cared. But you could see the exasperation in her eyes, and knew that she thought you were ungrateful. You appreciated the sandwiches, and the chocolate chips, and the milk, but you were just too depressed to show it.

When she'd gotten a crippling stomach bug from a cruise she'd gone on earlier that summer, she nearly died and had to go to the hospital. That was the only time that the neighbors had ever been tender towards you, as the whole block watched her be carried off in an emergency vehicle. But looking back on it now, you know the truth. They didn't feel sympathy for you, they felt sympathy for your grandmother.

The bullying in the neighborhood got to a point where you refused to go outside unless it was to go to school. You were _afraid_ of going outside, unless it was you in the car being only let out on school grounds. Because it seemed like every time you came out, something bad happened. You practically lived in your grandmother's spare room--at least, whenever you weren't (temporarily) kicked-out by your grandfather. You were on the computer all day, chatting with your friends, and soaking up the good things they always told you. You felt like a burden to them all the time, as they had to constantly reassure you that you weren't a burden, that you were great. But in your head, you had always told yourself--'they're not around me every minute of the day. They only know my good side. If they were really here, how long would they put up with me before they left, too?' And that always seemed to negate their affection.

But, you supposed, it wasn't all bad. G came out all the time now. You'd stopped sharing a room with your sister not too long ago, and so you had more privacy. Especially when you were at your grandparent's and not your mom's, because your grandma actually knew how to knock, and your grandpa hardly bothered to pay attention to you. He would watch you on the computer, sometimes, late into the night. Arms folded over the back of the office chair and head resting on his arms, watching what you type. He would occasionally urge you to go to bed, when your escapades trickled into the early hours of the morning, but when you would give him this pleading _look_ , he couldn't force you away. You felt bad, sometimes, like you were _manipulating_ your Monster.

But every time your gaze lingered too long on a butter knife next to your plate at the dinner table--in the rare occasions you were forced out of your cave to eat with the family--you would cry afterwards and curl up with G, as he told you that you would get through this, and that it would all be over soon.

Sometimes, your brain wandered to the negative implications behind those words.

You met someone on the computer recently, through roleplaying. She was really sweet. Two years, three-hundred and sixty-two days younger than you. Just under three! Her Birthday was three days before you each year, and she was ten when you both met. She brought light into your sorry life, and together, with G, you two helped each other _live_.


	4. Baby Come Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *You called for help...  
> *But nobody ca--  
> *...Or did they?

You are fourteen years old, and you just got out of a truly heinous situation.

The arguments between yourself and your family has only been getting worse, as you got more intelligent, stronger, and more aggressive in your depression. At this point you were on ten different kinds of medication--no exaggeration, either--and you felt like a child that was meant to be institutionalized, just looking at the intimidating amount of medicine you had to take each morning and night. You felt like a demon. You felt like a _Monster_ , and not the flattering sort, either. Three of the pills you were on were sleeping pills, because you could never get to sleep at night. Be it because you were on the computer--which, you'll admit you were a bit dishonest about and didn't admit to others--were unable to rest your troubled mind, or woke up from nightmares. You were pretty sure that the treatment from your family and your brain on your own self-esteem was doing lasting damage to your existence, and the fact that you were powerless to stop it terrified you.

Your mother, recently, had followed you through the house as she yelled awful words to you. Called you a cunt, followed you into your only safe space in your house. Your bedroom. And she was _too close to G_. She walked closer to you, posture rigid in an attempt to intimidate, as she continued to spit words at you. You could just _feel_ G under the bed, eager to just leap out and tear out her throat for you, but you knew that he couldn't. He had told you, recently, why he couldn't come out in front of others, and you had made him promise that he would never break that rule. You think that you might actually die if you lost him, even if he would wipe your memories of him.

You threatened to beat up your mom, if she didn't "shut the fuck up", and even though you saw a flicker of fear in her eyes, she didn't back down. She threatened to call the cops, and have you put away. Tears sprung to your eyes at the thought.

You thought back to a few years ago, when you had called animal control on one of your neighbors, because they were abusing their dogs, and your grandparents as usual refused to take the initiative. You wondered, now, why hadn't you called the animal control for Humans? Why hadn't you called CPS? Because you knew that, by this point, that would probably be better for you. With just how awful this place was.

You had been talking with your dad, for awhile. You played a game together, sometimes, and you would often talk about the future. He would help you cope with the pain you went through, and at some point, you both started talking about you coming up to live with him. He had recently moved away from your old home and even further across the country, to where his girlfriend's family lived. It was a thing you guys mulled over for awhile; the chances of there being a court case opened if your mother decided to fight over you, and whether or not you were considered old enough in the state you lived in to be able to testify in court.

Sure enough, quite some time later, just a couple weeks after your argument with your mother, something happens. Something awful, that you dread to think about.

You had gotten into an argument with your grandfather. A silly argument, at that. You had been sitting at the dining room table, struggling over your math. You had been recently accepted into a STEM school--you didn't really want to go there, but you had been pressured into it by your family, and only agreed because the school you would otherwise go to was full of your bullies--and the math problems didn't make any sense. You had never really been that good at math anyways, and it was stressing the crap out of you. You were beginning to cry. Your grandpa tries to help you, you think, but goes about it in all the wrong ways. Soon your stress spikes, and you're both yelling at each other, and he's threatening to touch you, and you in turn threaten to throw your dinner, plate and all, at him. It was a plate of crepes, something your grandma had just made for you. When he takes a step forward, you pick up the plate and throw it at him. The sound of shattering glass on the floor hits your ears as you make a beeline around your grandfather, running for the front door, trying to get out.

You've never seen your grandfather move so fast. He was in his seventies, now, and was littered with all sorts of bodily problems. But he managed to catch up with you, and when you opened the door, trying to slide through, he grabs the damned handle and crushes the door on your hand. You shriek with pain and rip your hand out of the door, shoving past him and running as fast as you could to the bathroom before locking yourself inside. There was arguing in the main part of the house a few moments later, but you were too far in your budding panic attack to listen. When you heard your grandfather vanish in his bedroom to change, that was when you acted. You threw open the bathroom door, just barely noticing your grandmother in the corner of your eye kneeling down to pick up the mess. You feel a vague flicker of guilt before running out of the house, successfully this time, and bolting down the street.

Just several days later, after telling your dad what happened, you got an emergency flight ticket from your dad. You were due to fly out in just a couple of weeks, the soonest they could afford. Your mother didn't even fight. But you were terrified--this time not for yourself, but your sister. Your sister was going to have to stay here, and you knew that you had always been the punching bag, and sheltering her from what happened. And now, she would become that punching bag, and as rough as your relationship had been over the past years, you could never wish your pain upon another Human being. But you had to leave. If you stayed, you knew that you would die. You were a shell of a Human being, and you just wanted the pain to stop.

So you took the plane. After much talking over with G, whom assured you that your sister's Monster would take care of her, you rounded the guts. It was the first time you'd flown all on your own, and you were a nervous mess as you went from gate to gate, from plane to plane, without someone to even guide you around the airport. It had been years since you'd been to an airport. But you made it, you were alive. And when you got home, to your _new_ home, exhausted from jet-lag, G curled up with you on the sofa. It had been a long time since you two got to cuddle, and there was a risk of someone coming downstairs since you were living in the basement's main room until you got your bedroom fully furnished, but he knew. He just _knew_ that you needed that sort of comfort, and you think...you think that's why you loved him so much. Wrapping your arms around him and stuffing your face into his bony chest, you sob about your pain just one more time.

He stays there the whole night.


	5. You're Gonna Hear Me Roar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're walking around, getting to know your new neighborhood when you see him.
> 
> Another Monster.
> 
> But where is his Human? And why is he looking at you like that, not suddenly terrified that now he has to leave whoever that Human was behind?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is where I deviate from the original author's canon. Hope it brings something less depressing into this, as opposed to the last couple of chapters, haha...
> 
> ;;

You got enrolled in the school down the street to your new home just two days later. But because of your anxiety, the school's guidance counselor had to physically seat you next to some kids at lunch. And that was where you met your second friend, to the strange girl that sat next to you on the bus. She was short, all sharp angles, and a flaming red-head. But she had the heart of a lion, and was into a lot of things that you were into. 

At first, you were a hunched person, constantly curled into yourself as if you expected a blow to come from any direction at any time. But as the time passed, you slowly relaxed yourself. Slowly came out of your shell; became a bit more outgoing; just a little bit louder, until you were the person you were meant to be.

Your past still haunted you. Sometimes the arguments that your father and his girlfriend would get into were loud, and pitched you into the past. But it was getting just a little bit better. It was always the worst when you were the one they were arguing over, your dad trying to be the protective papa bear to her stinging words. But one time, he had told you how it could be hard to defend you sometimes. And, you think, that's what stung the most. Because you loved your dad so, so much.

You were walking through your neighborhood one day. This place was so beautiful, full of green life, and there was a forest just outside in your backyard. You wanted to explore. So you went out into the woods, carefully dodging any sneaking bramble bushes. This wasn't a tamed forest, with a path, that you could just observe through. No--this was wild, untamed, and demanded survival. There were fallen trees, berries that looked like they might be poisonous, and squirrels scuffling about in the undergrowth. Just the way you liked it. You could imagine, cats running around in the forest, hunting critters and functioning together as an intelligent society. It allowed your nerves to loosen up quite a bit.

But then you heard something move. And it was definitely bigger than a squirrel. Your gaze jerked to the left, and you just caught the flicker of something tucking itself further behind a fallen tree. It looked like it might have been zapped by lightening. Thoroughly curious, and knowing that no bears could live around here, you decide to investigate. You wince at how loud your footsteps are, due to several thick inches of fallen leaves that you have to trek through like snow, but whatever had tucked itself behind the fallen tree doesn't make any move to run away. And finally, you get close enough.

Another Monster.

Another skeleton Monster, to be exact.

G had explained, once, how not all Monsters looked like him. How there was a lot of variety. Skeleton Monsters, fish Monsters, reptilian Monsters, rabbit Monsters, goat Monsters, or even jello-like Monsters. But this one was another skeleton, and he was looking at you with...you don't know how to place that expression. It seems like a horrible mix between sad and frightened, as he tucks himself further into the hollowed out tree. That can't be comfortable, and there has to be all sorts of bugs in there. Bugs could get uncomfortably large around here, at times, and seemed to be at their biggest at this time of year.

But you were never supposed to see other Monsters. Why was there one here, now? You made a motion towards it, and it flinched back. You paused.

"I'm not going to hurt you," you say, biting your lip. It blinks in acknowledgement at your words, but doesn't appear to be reassured. "My name is _. What's yours?" The Monster looks shocked. Hesitates for a moment. Then, quietly, "Ink."

The voice had sounded masculine, if only slightly. Ink? You took notice of the other's attire, then. He wore a cape in which the underside looked covered top to bottom in writing in a language you didn't understand, like runes on a scroll. He wore a belt across his chest that carried many vials of what appeared to be paint, yet it seemed to faintly glow, as if imbued with magic. There was a paint spatter on his cheek, and every time he blinked, his pupils were a different color and shape. He was...honestly, he looked...

Beautiful.

"Where is your Human, Ink?" You asked, somewhat nervously, crouching down. As if paranoid that someone was watching you talk to Ink. But this didn't feel right. G had made it explicitly clear in the past that a Human will never see another Human's Monster. Even if they're married. Which had, honestly, made you not want to get together with anyone, because that meant getting to see your best friend less often.

"My Human...didn't want me," he said, after a long pause. But it seems like once he's spoken, he can't stop. "M-Monsters can't go back underground unless they're seen by a Human while bound by contract to another, or their Human dies. My Human...my Human is still alive, but they didn't want me. So I...broke the contract." He looked off to the side, and somehow his intense gaze appears distant; somewhere else. "Usually Monsters that are abandoned like that, they Fall Down...and turn to dust." Fat, rainbow colored tears rolled down his face, and you felt guilty for thinking that he still looked absolutely beautiful. Well, until he vomited up what appeared to be a big glob of ink, paused, and then looked at you like he was seeing you for the first time. "...I'm terribly sorry, what is it we were talking about?"

You pause, before asking, uncharacteristically bold, "we were just talking about how you're going to come home with me." And he blinked, astonished, both eyes for once just two small, white stars, perfectly symmetrical. "What?" He said, and you repeated yourself, despite knowing that had been a what of astonishment. "Your Human made a mistake leaving you here, Ink. And...I don't know what Falling Down is, but it sounds bad, and I don't want that to happen to you." Tentatively, you held out your hand. Ink stared at it for a long, long time. Your arm was beginning to get tired. But then he smiled and reached forward, taking your hand. You stood and gently tugged him to his feet, as well. He was definitely shorter than G, but was about your height. Without thinking, you use his grip on your hand to tug him forward, yanking him into an embrace. Somehow, you felt like he needed it. And you were right, because he quickly hugged you back. You supposed you were glad you wore black today--it absorbed the color of fricking rainbow much better than others. You felt something, from deep within your chest. You could only describe it as feeling like the tug you get when you tie your shoes, and pull it into a firm knot.

[](http://tinypic.com?ref=2h4hkd5)

You just hoped that G would be okay with this.


	6. I Will Wait, I Will Wait for You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ink and G don't really know what to feel about each other.

You take Ink home with you. It's not an easy task, considering it's broad daylight, something dangerous for Monsters. But fortunately your dad is taking a nap upstairs. His computer is right next to the basement back door, so when you see that his chair is empty, you sigh in relief before gesturing for Ink to come in. He steps in tentatively, taking in his surroundings. You smile softly as you close the door behind you, before gesturing for him to follow. You lead him to your bedroom, where at this point it is more to your style. Rainbow tiger striped bedding, a lava lamp on a nice white shelf with your toys--including Hunny Bunny--and a snow globe that you got from a friend a couple of years ago. You're barely done closing the room door, Ink at your side, when you turn around and G is in your face, left golden eye socket smoldering. It was briefly trained on you before shifting to take in Ink, suspicion alight in his gaze. You immediately, fretfully, talk him down.

"It's okay G, just calm down and give me a minute to explain, okay?" You say, waving your hands. You think it's from just your bond of being together for so long that compels him to nod, agreeing, and take a step back. Immediately, you relax. Ink doesn't look so reassured. G definitely wasn't on the short side--in the six foot range, somewhere, while you and Ink lingered in the mid to low five feet. "G, this is Ink. Ink, G," you say, gesturing to each male skeleton as you speak. "Now, with introductions out of the way...G, Ink was abandoned by his Human. I found him out in the woods. So I offered for him to stay here. I...I know that I probably should've asked you first, but...Falling Down doesn't sound like a good thing? And I didn't want it to happen while my back was turned, and--" G suddenly jerked his hand forward, clapping it on your shoulder in a gesture for you to cease talking. Your jaw closes so fast that it clicks. G's gaze shifts to Ink again, briefly, before he sighs.

G looks like he's staring through you, for a moment. He blinks, looking a little more focused. "Well, s'not like I can really say anything otherwise anyways, sweetheart," he says, gritting his teeth. He looked like he would rather be chewing on something--like a cigarette. You had only caught him smoking a couple of times, and he always made sure to leave the house and do it somewhere secluded, and came back only when the scent was gone from his clothes. He couldn't risk giving your family the idea that you smoked. Sometimes, you wondered if he smoked out of stress. And if you were the reason of that stress. But you tried to not think of it too much. Ink, though, he looked sheepish, fiddling with his gloved phalanges and avoiding all eye-contact. You raise a curious brow. "You don't know?" G asked, looking somewhat frustrated. You blink, and shake your head. "'Ink' here has already signed a contract with you." You jolt, surprised, at this new information, and think back to anything that could have indicating this happening.

It must have been that knotting feeling in your chest...weird!

"It shouldn't be possible for a Human to have more than one Monster," G said, "I've never heard of it happening before. But both of our magical signatures are there. So that being said, I couldn't really do anything to get rid of him if I tried." He looked exasperated, and when you pouted (a rare thing, you weren't really the whiny sort these last few years; you'd really sobered up with your mental issues starting in the seventh grade), G instead appeared remorseful. "Sorry. It's just...going to take some getting used to. After having you to myself for so long." You nodded in agreement, oblivious. "Like a kid growing up a single child, and suddenly having a sibling, right?" G looked like he wanted to shake his head, but instead he paused before nodding. "Yeah. Splitting attention or whatever." You smiled. "Don't worry, G. I'll pay equal attention to both of you, okay?" The taller skeleton looked a little reassured by this and nodded.

With that aside, you looked back at Ink, whom seemed a bit awkward.

"Relax, Ink. You've got a place now, okay? You'll be fine." His pupils, once cerulean--you would need to take some mental notes on what each color meant when they weren't identical, figuring that two differing colors was something akin to neutral--turned their typical strange colors and shapes when he blinked, expression brightening up considerably. You couldn't help smiling, too, his expression contagious. "I'm going to take good care of you both, just like you will me. You scratch my back, I scratch yours. Yada yada." Ink laughed at this, a laugh that caused him to snort and for a little trickle of ink to inch down his jaw. Worriedly, you wipe it away, not wanting it to get all over your bedroom floor. But it seems to disappear on a whim anyways.

Yeah, you could handle this, you thought. Just another friend to have in your life. Ink was charming, and you figured that the three of you would get along great.


	7. Die Young

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot of things can happen in a year and a half. Some good, some bad. Fortunately, for this chunk of your teenage years, the former seems to outnumber the latter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cookie to anyone that can find the essential plot point in this chapter that will build for future chapters. :>

It was going to be your first Homecoming.

You still didn't have a lot of friends, because you had only come to the school recently, but you had enough that you wouldn't be completely alone.

Your dad's girlfriend had actually brought out the beauty in you, you think. Took you to the store and got you a nice but not overly fancy dress to wear, a simple black one that fell to the knees with a decorative, circular buckle on the front. A trip to the Sephora--funny, you had never been to a make-up shop before. They said that if your skin tone had been much lighter, they wouldn't have foundation for you. You weren't really much of a make-up person, but for some reason on this night you felt like you needed to go out of your way to look nice, even if you would be in a dark room for the majority of the evening.

The school actually managed to hire a DJ. That sounded more like a prom thing, somehow, but there was a DJ table and a live remixer, as well as flashing lights, all stationed in the gymnasium. You don't end up wearing your shoes, because they had heels--not your style--and were actually pretty tight on your feet, now that you've worn them for more than a few minutes. You don't dance either, and looking back on it you actually kinda regret it. But you had still been much too shy to just get out there and even so much as risk becoming the center of attention.

You think that is one of the only times that your dad's girlfriend is actually nice to you. Because your relationship deteriorates from there.

At the end of the year, something awful happens. The kids at the new school don't really like you very much, seeing you as a target. They did things throughout the year, and it seemed like no matter how much you reported them, they still kept on going. You figured that when they got suspended, they just got coddled at home and treated the ban like time off. At one point in PE one of your bullies sprayed you with a bottle of perfume, right in the face, and told you that you smelled like ass. They said mean things to you that made you want to lunge and beat the snot out of them. Because you _knew_ that you were stronger than them. You _knew_ that you could hospitalize them in one punch if you could just let go of that control. But that was the thing. You wouldn't get go of that self-control, knowing that the consequences wouldn't be worth it. So you let them continue thinking that you were weak, even if it hurt.

What an improvement from the third grade, huh?

On the second to last day of the school year, they did something awful. Truly heinous.

You were in your math class when they struck. You had been getting up to sharpen a pencil, and when you came back, your notebook was gone. The one that you had been writing one of your stories in. It was of decent length, with hours of writing put into it. You honestly didn't notice it at first; not until you realized your desk had been more covered than it had been. So just as the bell is ringing, you're walking by when you see a flash of purple in the recycling bin. Which is abnormal, considering the fact that only white paper goes in there. But when you reach in, you realize it's your notebook. Crumbled up, pages ripped out. You wonder how the Hell you hadn't notice this happen, even with your back turned. Your eyesight wasn't the best, but you prided yourself in your hearing. You were trembling with thinly veiled rage in the spot, staring intently at your vandalized notebook, desperately trying to contain the agonized scream that threatened to wrestle it's way out of you. The teacher promised that they would figure out who had done it, but you knew that nothing could be done. It was the second to last day of school. Somehow, you knew that the person that had done it had known this. You could also guess who it was, but knew better than to point fingers.

Ink seems to be the most torn up about this--even more than you. You had never seen both of his pupils turn red before. But apparently the destruction of creativity was a peeve of his. It had quickly gone from your Monsters comforting you to you comforting him, which he apologized profusely for afterwards. But you just waved him off. Somehow, not being their center of attention for a little bit had made you feel a bit better. Like you were just a little bit less helpless.

Your Summer goes a bit better. Still stressful, but not painfully so. Your half sister is as annoying as you'd expect a five-year-old to be, and your dad's girlfriend's personality is steadily deteriorating in your eyes as she becomes more aggressive. You're told to try and put your best foot forth by the guidance counselors at school, but it seems like no matter your efforts, you're still underappreciated. Once, you even took the time to spend a couple hours weeding the overgrown lawn, just out of good grace and to try and patch some holes, only to be yelled at for getting some dirt on the path. Of course that would happen. But you conceal your rage, no matter how difficult that may be.

It's funny. People complain about how you have zero self control and how you need to have more patience, but fail to realize that you do that all the time, and simply take your control for granted, only noticing and logging down the times where you're _not_ calm.

It's sophomore year. Things are a bit better. You make lots of new friends. It's fun to look at all the freshmen and think to yourself, "I was there last year". You remember how the previous year you had been the one scrambling to find all your classes, shoving past people to get there on time. It seemed to be a trend for freshmen, that was abruptly grown out of once a sophomore. It's a much more laid-back year for you, because you have three literary classes, which are your specialty.

There is one instance, again, in your math class. You see, you idolize this one teacher...she was like the mother you were supposed to have. And one day you were feeling particularly snappish--you hate group projects, because people tend to make you do all the work. And needless to say, you were already pretty salty when you were grouped up with several of your bullies, automatically on the defensive. And when you say some...admittedly not nice things? You're taken out of the room and _yelled at by that teacher that you love so much_ and it honest-to-God sends you into a full-blown panic attack, sobbing in front of her as she just unloads on you about bullying, when _you had been bullied by them for over a year now and suffered through six more years of it on top of them, you of all people know what bullying is thank you very much_ and, worst of all, says that if you don't apologize to the other kids, that you would be written up.

You were the golden child. The kid that never gets in trouble. But like Hell you were going to apologize to those kids.

That teacher is gone for the next several days, and it seems like a few days later she has forgotten. But your anxiety refuses to let you forget for several weeks, and it takes you a long time to look her in the eye after that. To even be in the same room as her. Because being yelled at by someone that made you feel safe...by someone you trusted...it pitched you back to times where things _weren't so bright_.

But with a lot of careful attention from your two favorite Monsters, they help you out of the rut you seem to have gotten in.

\--

You are not allowed to go to Homecoming this year.

It's not grades. No, you have twice as many As as you did the previous year--all As save for one B. But your now-step mother won't let you go, and you're honestly super bummed out about it. You're not much of a party person, but you actually have _friends_ you could go with this year, unlike last year. You're also more happy, and willing to actually get out there and dance like the Homecoming is meant for. But instead of going, you spend time with your skeletons, which isn't all bad. They somehow all fit in on your twin--sometimes G gets a little possessive when all three of you are in the space, which confuses you. But you enjoy having a skeleton on each side of you, keeping you warm and comfortable. Knowing that they're in the same room as you makes dealing with those _lonely nights_ a little difficult, because c'mon, you're a teenager, but...you still appreciate their company. Because you knew that they would always be there for you. Maybe not as it happens, but they'd always build you back up when someone kicked you down.

Your relationship with your step mother (yeah, that's a thing now, God knows why) continues to deteriorate. The arguments go from being between her and your dad to you and her, and it's like a catfight each time. You tear each other to shreds verbally, even though it's always you that ends up crying, because the arguments remind you of your mother and your fights with her. Sometimes you're pitched back _during_ the argument, but at least she never follows you into your space like _she_ did. Ink doesn't know why you act the way you do until G explains, with permission, seeing as he came along awhile after all that stuff happened. And Ink actually cries with you when he learns the true extent of all you went through, and you cry harder because you know that you gave G permission to explain, but hearing it all again hurts. Because no matter how much better you felt these days, no matter how closed up the scabs were on your mental state, they were still so susceptible to touch, and a simple prod could pitch you headfirst right back into the past.

You go to Halloween with two friends. The one that had been your second friend here that you met, and one that you met this year. A freshman. The three of you went trick-or-treating together; it was a fun night, for the most part, until the very end. A group of seven or eight boys had gathered at a street corner, and one of them _knew your best fucking friend's name_ and _asked her to come over to them._ And when your friend froze stock still next to you, you immediately went mama bear mode. Because you could feel the fear rolling off of your friend, and ominous vibes were coming from the boys. And then they begun to approach, and at first you mumbled "run," but all three of you stood still. The boys continued to approach. "Run!" You shouted this time, and it was like your words broke a spell on all three of you, because you pivoted on your feet and turned tail, grabbing the wrists of your friends and running in the other direction. The boys whooped and hollared behind you, cackling like hyenas and shouting for you to come back, saying that they only wanted to talk. But you felt like prey to predators; like a herd of deer being chased by a pack of wolves. You would be able to handle one or two boys, but a whole group of them? Hell no.

You were not an athletic person. But you were running purely off of adrenaline and knew that your friends, equally unathletic, were too. The three of you ran several blocks before collapsing on the sidewalks--the boys had all given up their chase once you had found somewhere more public to sit on the porch, huddle into each other and break down crying. You are a mess of tangled limbs, hugging and rocking under a streetlamp and hearts pounding, breathing heavy as you all try and calm each other down. You end up walking through the woods because that was the only other way to get back to your house without encountering those boys again. With the forest being wild and untamed, and dark outside, this is not an easy feat. Because turning on a flashlight meant risking being caught.

That would probably be the last time you go trick-or-treating.

That winter, there is no snow for the first two months. But at the last moment, right before Spring, it pours forth like a tsunami. Five and a half feet of snow falls in the span of a day and a half, and there is no school for a week. You are stuck digging out the house all by yourself for most of the first day, until your dad has pity on you and helps out. It wouldn't've been such a big problem if one of the neighbors hadn't decided to park their car on the street. The snow plowers couldn't plow around the car, so they took all the snow from the other side of the street and put it on your side, making you have to not only dig out of powdery snow that weighed as much as sleet, but also packed snow that piled taller than you behind the cars. It's a two day project, and by day two all of the snow has frozen to ice. Your Monsters, bless their SOULs (even if you didn't believe in God, he had tortured you too much to be worth believing in), had massaged you afterwards, wishing that they could have helped too. But you knew that they couldn't, and reassured them that it was okay.

Your friend, the freshman one that had gone trick-or-treating with you, invites you over to a sleep-over a few months later. She had been pestering you about this game that came out. But you had experience with joining things that were trending only for the interest to suddenly die when you express interest, and you don't like being a one-man show. But she was... _determined_ , and since your dad doesn't drive you anywhere, you have to walk. It's a forty-five minute walk (a five minute drive, would it really kill you to take me there dad? But you supposed you could use the exercise), and once you're there you don't plan on going home. Which had been her plan all along. Because she leads you into her room, grabs her laptop, and makes you watch lets-plays. She falls asleep at 11:30, and you're up until well after one, completely enraptured.

When you show your skeleton friends, it seems to hit a bit too close to home with them. They suggest that the game might have been based off of a tale that the gamemaker's Monsters shared, which in fact wasn't actually a tale at all, but some knock off of actual Monster history. Monsters were, you learn, locked underground a long time ago, only able to emerge if their SOUL is accompanied by a Human SOUL, which they learn later can be accomplished by assigning their SOUL to a Human's while it is new and not as determined--a trait of Humans that is apparently dangerous to Monsters. So then, Monsters can take Human energy and live on the surface, but there are conditions. They cannot be seen by another Human, and must retreat back Underground once their Human dies. You find out that this is why it was a shock to G that Ink was able to create a contract--you were closer to an adult than a child, and the determination could have been seriously dangerous. You take this time to gently chew the smaller skeleton out, warning him that he needed to be more careful, but then hugging him. Because he probably would have died anyways--Monsters weren't meant to be abandoned; they weren't able to retreat to the Underground if their Human was still living. So he would have likely died, eventually.

"So you're like...genies," you say to them, a question but at the same time not really a question. Both skeletons shrug. "We enjoy your company, _. Don't get us wrong." You shake your head. "But not all Humans are like me. I thought this was just like...a soulmates thing? Or whatever? Not a thing you guys have to do in order to see the sun each day. That's awful." There was a frown in your voice as you spoke. The fact that these two seemed completely unconcerned by it was even more upsetting. But there wasn't really anything you could do about it anyways--not when you were just barely sixteen years old.

\--

A few weeks later, it's the last straw between your step mother and yourself. You're leaving, again. Unwanted. You realize you might have abandonment issues.

You don't understand how your dad can love your step mother, when all they can do is argue. Once he had actually admitted that even if he did leave her, that he was getting to an age where finding someone else was nearly impossible. Which you supposed was true. But you'd rather be alone than face arguments nearly every single day. Arguments that you can't win because your partner is too Goddamn bullheaded.

But you suppose that there is a bright side to this move, even if you're going to miss your dad a lot.

Earlier in the summer you had briefly visited where you were going now. To live with your grandmother. You were a bit nervous, but at least you knew what you were getting into. And hopefully this time you would be staying here until you were an adult--because you were running out of places to go. Nobody else would take you after this. Damn you for being an alpha female, but at least you could advocate for yourself.

It was super nerve-wracking, being on a plane again. And you just knew that a lot of your things wouldn't be coming with you, even though your step mother had said that they would. Like Hell they'd be able to afford it. You would be starting back at square one. But at least...the environment would be much more laid-back. There were much less expectations from you here; no goals that seemed out of reach. At least, so it seemed.

G seemed upset with the whole ordeal. Happy that you might not have any more arguments with people, because there were often times where Ink had had to hold him back from coming to your aid, but the fact that it seemed like nobody wanted you except for your Monsters was distressing for all three of you. It seemed like you never had a truly permanent home, and you kept on having to start over from scratch. Something that, even if you didn't really show it, they both knew that it tore you up inside.

But what else could you do but accept it?

You land. 'Here we go again,' you thought, as you step off of the plane.


	8. The Man In The Back Said Everyone Attack, and it Turned Into a Ballroom Blitz

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You arrive at your...new-new home? You suppose?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why I feel the need to update this all the time. For some reason I'm really hyped about updating it all the time. Especially since soon we'll be deviating from what's actually happened and getting into stuff from my actual brain. And the skellies will become more of a main focus as opposed to going through the reader's life as they grow up. Because, regretfully, this has so far been more akin to a biography than a fanfiction...hopefully that'll change soon!
> 
> Then the real fun will begin, haha.

You arrive at your...new-new home? You suppose?

It's not so bad. It's definitely greener at this time of year. It's...actually not that different from your old home, despite being a much more desert-like climate. But being a born and raised northerner, the sudden heat would take some getting used to. Even though you planned to wear your coats regardless of what time of year it was.

Your cousin was pretty annoying. You knew that was going to be something inevitable upon moving here. She was smug, and thought she knew everything, and argued a lot. Claiming things she said she knew but you knew for a fact from life experience was incorrect. But you tried to give her some slack considering the fact that she was ten, and had a number of mental disabilities that caused her to...not function very well. Your grandmother constantly told you that you needed to have more patience, but of course, just like before, you were never respected for when you actually were patient. It was taken for granted. So whenever you snapped at her, it was like you were never patient at all. Figures.

But still, your skeletons followed you, just like you knew that they would. Which made things a lot more bearable for you. Your grandma had a lot less respect for your privacy than anybody else, and you had insisted on not having a bed. Because as much as you liked your skeletons having a comfortable space, you preferred a nest on the floor as opposed to an actual mattress. It felt more...you, and your previous homes had never allowed it. So instead you asked for your grandma to get you one of those things you hang on the wall to hold all your shoes, and placed a couple of blankets on the floor in your closet, apologizing to your skeletons. Still, you told them that they could join you at 11, after everyone was in bed, so that they didn't have to spend the whole night in discomfort in the closet. Some Monsters did have to go in there, you knew this, but you wanted your friends to have the most comfort possible. Besides--they seemed to prefer being in your bed, these days.

So they would still cuddle up to you at night, and still cared for you despite all of your strange quirks. Sometimes you felt like they were the only people that ever understood you, and you wondered what you had ever done to deserve such devotion from them. Sometimes, you fretted that it was obligation by the chains that bound them to you in order to be on the surface. But they insisted that they loved you for who you were. And you loved them just the same, often reassured by their comforting, loving words at night and their warm snuggles.

Ink had wormed his way right into you and G's daily lives. It quickly became as if he had never not been there. He ended up being a lot happier once he figured that you wanted him for sure, and often you two drew things together. But the thing was about him was that he could actually make things come to life, temporarily, with his magic. Not permanent by any means, but it made your life brighter when you got to pet a kitten made from his magic, him grinning and occasionally laughing as it mewled and brushed against you. Sometimes, he made even more crazy things, like mythical creatures. Though you had to be careful since your bedroom was so small. Unfortunately you couldn't have him draw something like a dragon. But still, having the extra animals around, however temporary, was a great stress reliever.

The kids at your new school left you alone for the most part. It was actually kind of disappointing--you knew that the education in this state was failing, but you hadn't expected it to be because seventy percent of the kids attending were on their phones the entire day, and teachers were dishing out answers to worksheets, not giving homework or notes to actually take home and study. You often found yourself taking the extra steps to make sure that you were passing, and frankly found getting the As way too easy. You liked to work for your progress, not have it handed to you on a silver platter, despite the stress that it often brought you. Because then you could look back and say, yeah, I worked for that grade. I deserve that grade. But you just weren't finding that at your school. You had no friends because you had moved there at the tail end of the school year, and frankly none of the students seemed to really be interested in becoming friends. So you didn't make that extra effort, instead focusing on your studies. Besides--you still had your friends back at your old home to talk to. And your skeletons. Both nice things to have.

Before long, Summer school rolls around. You're kind of pissed at your school, because though you like to work for your grades, telling you that they couldn't get you credit for four of the classes you took that year and signing you up for four of those courses to finish over the summer was just too much. They had given you a fifth course, during the year, and it had been very hard to finish it before school was out. You felt like you had no time to yourself, and with all that was happening, eventually fell behind. Mostly because you would be going out of state for a month--back to your old home. With your mom.

In the past couple of years, your mother and grandfather had changed. Your grandfather had apologized for his actions several months after what happened, and after you had shunned your mother for nine months, she shaped up quite a bit. Not to mention as your sister became depressed--just as you had feared would happen--to the point where she was becoming suicidal, you continued to pester your mother until she got your sister the help she needed, and stopped acting so oppressive. You could only do so much from a distance, but at least your mother was being cooperative. Treating you like an adult and doing as you said. Rather than feel powerful, you felt relieved. You were admittedly a bit afraid of the idea of going back, afraid that your mother would trap you there and not let you go back. But you reminded yourself that she was different, as the time between school getting out and flying out to where she lived shortened more and more.

Ink and G didn't seem too pleased about it either. Especially G. Ink had heard what happened by ear (or lack thereof), but G had been there to experience it with you personally. He didnt want you to go back. But you knew that you needed to spend that time with your sister--it had been two years, and she had once called you on Skype, crying about how much she missed you. And how could you say no to that? It convinced him just enough to let you let your family have another chance at you being around.

You had been doing so much flying around. For the first few times in the past few years, you were constantly buzzing with energy, or excitement at the idea of flying. Because it was something you didn't get to experience often. But now it was beginning to dull, and make you more nervous than excited. You didn't really like flying much, anymore.

But you had seen a meme recently. A "running man" meme, where you point your legs outwards and jog in a very strange way. It was often played to the song "500 Miles", and you found it hilarious. You decided with your sister to meet up at the airport while doing that. A friend from middle school was going to be there, too, and all three of you would be a part of it. When you got there, you tackled each other while doing that funky run and just all hugged each other, a pile of tangled limbs on the floor as you interacted for the first time in nearly two solid years.

The trip ended up not being so bad. You went to a convention the two days after flying in, dressed in costume and met several new friends, all into what you were into. You did karaoke, on a whim, and by the time you finished your grip on the microphone had been shaking like crazy and you had fallen to your knees. The microphone hadn't done your voice justice, but you knew that just by staying there for more than five seconds, you had come a long way in your self confidence. Many people hugged you, whether they knew you or not, in congratulations for your bravery, having been able to tell just by looking at you that you were nervous. It was very reassuring.

In the last couple of weeks, you went to camp. You reunited with many people that you knew before, and met some new people, too. You actually...acted like a party animal, at the dance. You actually got out there, when in years before you had just stood there, a wall flower. You had an amazing time, with your sister, with your friends...you remember the very last dance, where only the teenagers and counselors and staff were there, and you all danced to Don't Stop Believing. You nearly cried at the memory of it. It was the day before the last day of camp. You would likely never forget that night, unless...someday in the future you got Alzheimers. Or something. But you had a blast, even if you didn't get to see your skeletons often.

Your departure from your mother and sister's was heartfelt and involved many tears. You didn't want to leave your sister here. But you didn't have a choice. So you flew back, after some drama regarding your tickets. It turns out while you were out that you had been accepted into a private charter school. You could try again at getting a better, more challenging education. It turns out you didn't have to make up the credits lost by your old school. There had been a misunderstanding. You were grateful for that. It was a lot of weight off of your shoulders. But you had been in a STEM school before, and knew it wouldn't be much different from here. You would have to pay a lot more attention and offer a lot more dedication to make it through for the remaining two years of school.

You felt like you could do it.


	9. Freak on a Leash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're finally out of high school. You walked the stage yesterday.
> 
> ...Now what?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sincerely sorry for disappearing for so long, everyone! I'm afraid that I had a really bad spike of depression recently. But after upping my medication, it got a lot better, and I've managed to claw myself out of that hole I dug for myself! Plus, good news! We have now advanced past the point where everything has happened in my life, and are getting into things from my own imagination! Thank you for being patient, and without further ado, here's the next installation to Your Best Friend from Down Under!
> 
> PS. There is like...little to no plot in this chapter, guys. It's literally just fluff.

You're finally out of high school. You walked the stage yesterday.

...Now what?

You'd been agonizing since 11th grade over the idea of finally emerging into adulthood. You've been in school for so long now, that the idea of no longer being bound to it was...strange. Of course, you planned to go to college, but that wouldn't really be the same, would it? You were finally considered an adult. Where had the time gone?

You thought about your skeletons. G had been with you every step of the way, and even though Ink had only been here for a short couple of years, he has already seen so much of you and your life. You loved both of them to pieces, though lately in what fashion was debatable.

The way that G looked at you sometimes...that yellow eye socket, and the way his teeth were shaped, creating the perfect smirk...it was seductive, and you doubt he even meant it that way. Even though he hasn't worn a shirt a day in his life for as long as you've known him.

And Ink...he was just precious. He was like a child, but at the same time, had his moments of maturity that sometimes jarred you. Every now and again he would disappear, having to do something or another, but would always come back. You remembered the one time you had been on your laptop, leaning into G's side as you tapped away, when from the other side of you Ink had lurched forward, as if in pain. Then both of his pupils had turned red, and he had dismissed himself. Whenever you asked him what was the matter, after he came back looking somewhat worse for wear, he would wave you off. Which was probably the most unnerving--he didn't keep anything from you.

Except for that.

But it had always been a thing, ever since you had found him. It just didn't happen very often. But you learned to treat it like the rest of your life, rolling with it. If he wasn't going to say anything, you wouldn't argue with him.

Looking up from your laptop, you stare at the ceiling and sigh. You've been tapping away at your computer or doodling for some time now. You had made a sort of side-career out of your art hobby, and had made a pretty penny off of your work. It made a nice temporary in addition to your volunteer work at the Humane Society. You weren't good at working with other Humans, but at the Society, you were much more in your element. Your confidence sky rocketed, because you actually knew what you were doing. Felt useful. Adequate. You knew more about breeds and pet care than any of the people that actually ran the shelter, and easily gave advice to customers looking to adopt, telling them which breeds would grow how large. How to take care of the more shy animals. How to handle the more rambunctious ones. You actually enjoyed talked to people there, as you took animals out that caught their eye and socialized them. You had been doing it for about three years, now, and had no intention of stopping any time soon.

"I want a fox." You said suddenly, still looking at the ceiling. But you could feel G looking at you, now, brow ridge raised. "And a water dragon. Just...exotic animals. A giant lizard walking around my house...and a fox that acts like a puppy. Sign me up." You looked over at G, a cheeky grin on your face, and he blinked before breaking out into a smile. From your other side, Ink sat on the floor, and was doodling. He snickered at your sudden, silly comments. But even if they were silly, they were no less true. You've always had a thing for exotic pets, but so long as you lived in this house with your grandmother, you wouldn't get them. For now, though, you supposed you were satisfied with Toaddo and Priscilla, your Toad and Frog, respectively. You looked over at their tank--they had been with you for about two and a half years, now, and were each about five inches. They were definitely hefty reptiles, and you delighted in hearing their chirps at night. You had caught Ink doodling them more than once.

You yawned, stretching out from your spot on your blanket pile on the floor. You purposefully stuck your feet into Ink's lap, getting in the way of him drawing. But then he huffed, amused, and rose his arms, resting his wrists on your ankles as he resumed. You rolled your eyes, wiggling your toes, when suddenly you felt the wet, cold tip of his paint brush stroking the tips of your toes. You let out a short shriek, jerking away from him and covering your mouth, hoping that nobody had heard you. Ink snorted a laugh, setting his doodle aside before twisting to crawl over to you, joining G and yourself in the nest. He simply flopped over on top of you, and you were completely okay with this, because he's done it before. You wrapped your arms around him as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, and G looped his arms around your frame, resting his head on top of yours.

This was nice.

In your childhood, you had had to slave for affection from anybody other than G. You were touch starved as a child, and so someone simply brushing their arm against yours could send a thrill down your spine. But it was a bit more bearable, since these two gave you more than your daily dose. Especially as you got older--they got a lot more...physical. But you didn't allow yourself to think on it too hard, turning red as you looked down at Ink, only to jolt upon realizing that he was looking right back up at you.

"What's up?" You ask, failing to keep your voice from wavering. Ink grinned, then, shrugging the best he could from his position. "I can't just look at you?" He hummed in that soft voice of his, that always calmed you down. Now it was your turn to shrug, and his grin seemed to widen, and when he blinked, both of his pupils were bright golden stars. You had seen that look before. "Ink, no no no, it's too late for thAAAT--!" You were cut off as Ink suddenly dug his phalanges into your sides. You choked on a shriek, back arching at the feeling. His boney fingertips hurt somewhat, but the tickles outlasted the pain, and you were writhing on G's lap as Ink propped himself on his knees, hands wrestling with your arms, firm to your sides, to try and get to your armpits. But you were weaker with your nerves lit up, and it's not long before he gets access. It's hard to stay quiet, but soon you're silent because you're out of breath, and that's when Ink backs off from his tickle attack. He was laughing, too, his cheeks flushed rainbow.

You took a moment to regain your breath, breathing ragged, as Ink sat triumphantly before you. But then you looked up at him, a glint in your eye, and he scrambled backwards. But it was too late. Like a tiger, you pounced, pinning the skeleton to the ground and beginning to tickle him back. He wriggled and laughed under your assault. It was a bit difficult to get to his bones through his vest, and you slid aside the belt with the paint vials that was constantly slung over his shoulder, so that you could access the velcro that kept his vest on. You tugged it apart, accessing the shirt he wore underneath. And then you resumed your assault, much to Ink's cackling protest, as he pressed a palm to your cheek, trying to weakly push you off. But you didn't relent, intent on getting your revenge.

But when you pressed at his clavicle, he let out a shaky, breathless moan, and you both went stock still. You looking down at him with wide eyes, while he looked back up at you with half-lidded eye sockets, entire face a splash of rainbow colors. You realized the compromising position you were in, then, flushing a deep crimson and crawling off of him. G had been observing your shenanigans with an unreadable expression, though judging from his black eye sockets, you figured it couldn't be anything good. You could only wonder why, though.

Panting, you sat on your legs, Ink sitting up and fumbling to redo the velcro on his vest. His fingers fumbled, as he was shaking, and you hoped that you hadn't made him uncomfortable, sitting there with a guilty look on your face. When he looked up from his ministrations, he saw your face and was immediately scooting forward. "It's okay! Don't worry? You just surprised me, and I'm...uh, a bit sensitive there." He grinned lopsidedly at you, and you couldn't help but grin back.

You were glad that you hadn't ruined anything.

Then, G cleared his throat, nabbing both you and Ink's attention. "I think it's about time you got to bed," he told you, and upon looking at your phone, you realized it was almost two in the morning. You nodded, reluctantly, as the tall skeleton situated himself to where you could lay down, before taking your side. Then Ink joined you, curling into your other side. You breathed a soft sigh, the adrenaline from before having left your system. But even despite this, you just couldn't seem to get to sleep. Your thoughts were running rampant in your head, too quickly for you to even process them properly.

[](http://tinypic.com?ref=qxt20h)

Just what did you feel for these skeletons?


	10. Author's Note

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just some words.  
> EDIT: Moved what was said in the chapter section to the notes, to remove it's word count from the total word count.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, so a little status report.
> 
> I was being lazy for a bit (and maybe a bit depressed), so that's a big reason why I haven't updated. But now, by this point, I don't know if I'll be continuing, as interesting as the plot is.
> 
> It's likely that I may rewrite it, but I dunno about continuing from here.
> 
> I feel like I could have tried a lot harder to create a more original character, with an original background.
> 
> Plus, I was stalking Comyet's Tumblr, and learned that Ink isn't the cinnamon roll that the fandom often interprets him to be. He's actually kind of an asshole. "Chaotic neutral, at best", as Comyet likes to put it. And I don't really like to continue writing knowing that I'm doing it wrong? So I might rewrite this again, with a different set of skeletons, and a better fleshed out reader insert. I may or may not use Ink again, though if I do, the fic will probably become more of a character study. The fact that he isn't the "saint" of the AUs as we thought intrigues me, but I don't know...how I'd go about writing it, since Ink wouldn't really be the protector of the AUs in the Underguardians AU--at least, in the manner in which I've written him.
> 
> So uh, keep an eye out for another fic...I'll probably change the title of this if I rewrite it, because I don't want to change the name. Also I'd be using new art, since I recently started using SAI again. So, essentially, a complete and total revamp.
> 
> Hopefully you guys understand...thank you for your time and attention, it's much appreciated, and my most sincere apologies for this abrupt decision!

..........

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **BIG FAT IMPORTANT EDIT, PLEASE READ!**  
>  11/25/16
> 
> Thanks to user "deskdraik", I've decided to continue the fic. I'm going to reevaluate Ink's character, and contemplate the best way to write him. I know how I want this fic to go, and I was being silly for considering abandoning it. So thanks for your words. I really needed that.


	11. Say it Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ink brings his and G's feelings for you to a head.
> 
> It doesn't go very well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've decided to continue this. Just a shorter chapter to tide you guys over. We're also finally getting somewhere with the plot! Aren't you excited??
> 
> ...
> 
> I'm excited.

It’s another day where their Human goes to work. They’ve been doing that a lot lately, since they graduated, and on a lot of days that leaves Ink and G alone in the house to do...whatever it is Monsters do all day other than tucking themselves under the bed.

As of the moment, Ink and G were seated in the middle of the bedroom floor, fiddling with various things. Ink was currently playing on the DS, some older Pokemon game, while G was fiddling around on some forum on the internet. “You know that it’s dangerous to go on the Internet like that,” Ink had chided once, only for G to reply with, “they don’t know that I’m anything less than Human. And it’s not like I’m broadcasting my face or something.” Not wanting to argue, Ink simply huffed and moved on.

But that was on the more mundane days. They were passing their time the same way today, as usual, but this time Ink had something different to talk about. He exhaled heavily, putting the DS down on the floor and looking up at G with an unreadable expression on his face. “I know you like _,” he said, causing G to stop abruptly in the middle of whatever he was typing, looking slowly up from the laptop situated in his lap, instead at Ink. He looked like he really wanted a cigarette, but _ had made it clear that he wasn’t allowed to do so in the house, and that meant that he could only do it at night. It was difficult fighting the habit, but he knew that they had Asthma, and didn’t want to risk his Human’s health.

“What’s your point?” G asked, tone giving nothing away. Ink shrugged, glancing back down at his DS, though he wasn’t really paying attention to it. “Well, I dunno. Just thought it’d be...interesting, since we’re both their Monsters.” G’s expression shifted after that, to something more annoyed. He looked like if he had the cigarette he wanted, he’d be chewing on it. Ink hid a smirk by looking more pointedly at his game. G growled and leaned forward, grabbing the DS by the top of the screen and confiscating it from the smaller skeleton’s grip. When Ink looked up, still smirking, he saw that G was glaring down at him with narrowed eye sockets.

“You’re being provocative.” G accused, and Ink’s smirk shifted into something more innocent. The look he often gave _. He should have known better than to believe that Ink was genuinely, thoroughly kind. At least, without _ around to see this mischievous, and frankly somewhat dickish side of him. “What, me?” Ink said, going wide-eyed. His left pupil was an orange-red, while the right took on a violet hue. G saw it as representing wicked amusement. “I would never. We’re pals, after all, G.”

“Cut the bullshit. Why did you start this conversation?” G asked, getting in Ink’s space. The skeleton shrugged, smirk settling instead into a small smile. “I wanted to propose something.” He said, simply, causing G to raise a brow bone in suspicion, and perhaps slight curiosity. Ink sat up straight, causing G to have to back off somewhat. “We can either fight for their attention and perhaps affection,” he said, “or we can work together. You remember their conversations with friends, pondering polyamory, right?” G paused, but then nodded, though his sockets were still narrowed. “What if I don’t want to be with a pipsqueak like you, though?” Ink paused, and then chuckled, twisting so that he was sitting up on his knees, now at G’s height. His skull was soon within mere inches of the other’s face.

“Well, allow me to convince you.”

\--

Your skeletal companions have been acting...strange, lately.

It was a very sudden thing, that occurred with little to no warning. The two of them were suddenly more sweet, going out of their way to please you. And it was nice to get attention and massages after work, but that didn’t make it any less confusing or suspicious. They were much more affectionate not only with you, but with each other, and if it were just Ink, you would probably learn to live with it. But the fact that G was suddenly wrapping his arms around you from behind while you worked, or slinging his arms over your shoulders while you sat at your computer, leaning down to your ear to ask you what you were doing… _that_ threw you for a loop. And it’s not long before the confusion and curiosity fills you to the brim, and you finally snap while watching a movie in bed on your laptop, the skeletons flanking each of your sides.

You snap your laptop shut, filling the room with darkness other than their eyelights. Someone, you assume G, crooks a phalange, turning on the bedroom light instead. You huff, asking, “okay, what’s going on?” And of course, they try to act aloof. “And don’t give me any of that ‘I don’t know’ bullshit. You guys know what I’m talking about.” From there, it was like a switch was flipped. But what surprised you was that it was Ink that acted, sitting up and clambering into your lap. “Well, it goes like this, _…” But before he could continue, your bedroom door was opening.

“_, you’re supposed to be in bed, not on Skype--” came the voice of your grandmother, and you and both of your skeleton friends froze where they were, the three of you looking up like a deer caught in the headlights. Your grandmother, too, had frozen, staring in wide-eyed shock. She knew what Monsters were, of course she did, but she also knew that she wasn’t supposed to see the Monsters of anyone else. And she knew what happened if they were seen.

She bolted forward, attempting to reach for you, but G had already scooped you into his arms, grabbing Ink with a free hand, and teleported away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm going to say it right now, I know that Ink is, canonically, aromantic asexual. And I know that I am stressing Ink's character. But I also know that Comyet says that we can leave it to our own interpretation--I may follow the asexual bit, I may not. But at the very least, for plot sake, I will likely not follow the aromantic part of it. At the very least, though, I wanted to look into his asshole side. He'll probably start showing it more around Reader eventually, especially with what happened at the end of the chapter likely causing stress (that being said, spoiler alert: you don't get a memory wipe, wahoo! But why?). I still feel like I haven't quite nailed his personality, but it's a bit harder to marionette a character in a situation when he doesn't belong to an AU, but now he suddenly does. I hope you all can understand.


	12. Straight to Video

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You don't know where you are. You just know that you're afraid, and that you've learned something about Ink that you would rather have never known.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's like once I start writing, I can't stop until I've updated twice or three times...I was sitting here after the last update, thinking to myself..."what if I did this?" and I couldn't not write it up.
> 
> ...I still haven't eaten yet today. It's after midday.

You feel a chilling sensation of nothingness for only a split second before the world around you lightens up again, and you blink your eyes open, looking around. You had never before experienced one of G’s teleports, though you knew it to be one of the skeleton’s many powers. You were left quite nauseated afterwards, having not eaten in awhile, and you’re left on the ground dry heaving for a moment. “W-where are we, G?” You managed to rasp, sitting up and looking around. G was quiet, until you called his name, getting his attention. “I don’t know. I just...needed to get us out of there.” He said, before reaching up and clutching at the sides of his skull. “Shit! This wasn’t supposed to _happen._ ” His teeth were grit, expression twisted in anger. He then suddenly shot up, whirling around to face Ink and standing up, threateningly. You have never, _ever_ seen him this angry before. Frankly, it scared you. “This was your idea! It was your idea to make a move on _!” He accused, and Ink stood up as well, indignant. “It wasn’t like I was forcing you! This is just as much your fault as it is mine!”

You then stood up, gripping each of the skeleton’s shoulders. “Both of you, shut it!” You exclaimed, looking each of them with a stern expression on your face. “This is neither of you’s faults. Neither of you could have anticipated grandma coming into the room. But right now, that doesn’t matter. We need to figure out where the Hell we are, and what we’re supposed to do now.” But G had gone quiet, his eye sockets dark. “It doesn’t matter,” he said, all of the anger and fight gone from his voice. “It doesn’t matter where we are, because it’s over. Another Human saw us.” He looked up and right at you, the usual yellow of his left socket gone, instead both of his eyes a soft, remorseful white. “You know what happens when other Humans see us, _. It’s been years, but I did tell you.” You thought back for a long moment, your memory briefly failing you, before you remembered. You gasped, taking a step back. “No. No, G, you can’t.”

“I’m sorry, _.” G said, and he really sounded like it. He took a slow step forward, and you took another step back. This continues until you’re backed into a wall, and you realize it’s made of brick. You must be in town somewhere. He reaches up his left hand, and you’re able to see through the palm as it lights up a faint yellow. Tears begun streaming down your face as you shut your eyes, glancing the other way. You didn’t want this. You didn’t want to forget them. You had known G since you were six, and Ink since you were fourteen. You just felt G’s phalanges beginning to graze against your forehead before suddenly he was knocked away, and it’s a brief moment before you dare open your eyes again.

“I can’t do this,” G muttered, looking at war with himself. Ink was standing off to the side in the middle of all this, and the fact that he looked completely unperturbed by the turn of events shattered your heart. Here you were, sobbing--something you seldom ever did--and G looking like he was ready to begin crying himself, and Ink was just standing there. “I can’t...take all of those memories away from you, _. It would destroy you.” It was true. G had spent so much time within your line of sight, that you’d possibly remain crippled for the rest of your life. “And...I think it would destroy me, too.” You choked on a sob. But it was no longer out of fear--it was now out of hurt, as you continued to look past G, at Ink, whom was staring right back at you, eye sockets now blank. He looked like he wanted to feel guilty, having been caught, but couldn’t bring himself to feel so.

“It doesn’t matter,” Ink suddenly said, causing both you and G to jolt. “I mean, this is just one timeline out of many. In some outcomes, you wipe their memory,” he said, and the utter monotone in his voice as he said it was chilling; uncaring. “In some outcomes, their grandmother gets to them before you can teleport us away. In some of them, they die before this day ever even happens.” He shrugged. But before he could say more, G had the smaller skeleton pinned to a wall, growling menacingly. “What the fuck are you talking about? How can you just say that?” He snarled, and you have never seen G act anything like this before. His yellow eye was back, and it was blazing in fury. “You’ve known _ for four years now. You _bonded_ to their SOUL the day you met!” But suddenly Ink was shaking his head, raising his hands to shove G back with a strength neither of you knew he had.

“No, I never bonded to their SOUL.” Ink said, his eye sockets remaining dark as he spoke, as if on autopilot. Like he’s said it many times before. “I imitated the signature the Monsters in this Universe create when they bond to a Human, okay? It was a lie, because I wanted to feel like I belonged somewhere other than the space between alternate universes. I wanted to care about something. About someone. But I don’t even have a SOUL to care _with!_ ” The outburst took both you and G completely off guard, and when the taller skeleton tried to summon forth the smaller’s SOUL, it was proven true. Bonds couldn’t be made without two SOULs.

“You said so yourself, G,” Ink said, suddenly beginning to laugh. “It shouldn’t be possible for two Monsters to bond themselves to one Human.” He looked over at you, an eerie smile on his face. “But now you two get to decide which road you want to take. You either face the consequences of remembering, or the consequences of forgetting...I can’t share the omniscience of those outcomes with you, because every timeline has it’s own slight deviations...and that knowledge would only cause you a worse outcome. So...pick your poison, G.”

G, himself, looked like he wanted to throttle Ink. But at the same time, he couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away from you, as you stared meekly back up at him, the weakest he’s ever seen you. He stared at you for a long time, you staring owlishly right back. And he finally sighed, stepping back. “I still can’t do it. I can’t wipe your memory, _.” Your legs gave out from underneath you with relief, an incredible weight of tension lifting from your shoulders.

But you still couldn’t forget what Ink had said to you. About there being a bad outcome regardless of G’s decision. The tall skeleton knelt down, helping you back to your feet. “Whatever happens from here...even if it’s bad, I will be here to help them with it. Because it’s my job, and...I care about them. I...care about you, _.”

You could do little more than wrap your arms around his neck, just holding him there, in the middle of the alleyway, while Ink stood off to the side, that I-want-to-be-guilty expression still on his face as he turned away, not wanting to bear witness to the evidence of losing...not again.

[](http://tinypic.com?ref=ajklxu)


End file.
